parson; but, having
seduced a young female member of his congregation, he was expelled from
his pulpit. An action being brought against him by the mother of his
victim, and heavy damages obtained, he attempted to take the benefit of
the Insolvent Debtors' Act--but, on account of Miss----, was remanded
for eighteen months. That period he employed in writing a shockingly
blasphemous work, for which he was prosecuted, and sentenced to a heavy
fine and imprisonment. On being released from prison, saturated with
gall and bitterness against all mankind, he took to political writing of
a very violent character, and was at length picked up, half starved, by
his present patron, Mr. Quirk, and made editor of the _Sunday Flash_. Is
not all this history written in his sallow, sinister-eyed,
bitter-expressioned countenance? Woe to him who gets into a discussion
with Viper! There were one or two others present, particularly a Mr.
Ghastly, a third-rate tragic actor, with a tremendous mouth, only one
eye, and a very hungry look. He never spoke, because no one spoke to
him, for his clothes seemed rather rusty black. The only man of
gentlemanlike appearance in the room was Mr. Gammon; and he took an
early opportunity of engaging poor Titmouse in conversation, and setting
him comparatively at his ease--a thing which was attempted by old
Quirky, but in such a fidgety-fussy way as served only to fluster
Titmouse the more. Mr. Quirk gave a dinner-party of this sort regularly
every Sunday; and they formed the happiest moments of his
life--occasions on which he _felt_ that he had achieved success in
life--on which he banished from his thoughts the responsible and
dignified anxieties of his profession; and, surrounded by a select
circle of choice spirits, such as were thus collected together, partook
joyously of the

"Feast of reason, and the flow of soul."

"This is a very beautiful picture, Mr. Titmouse, isn't it?" said Gammon,
leading him to the farther corner of the drawing-room, where hung a
small picture, with a sort of curtain of black gauze before it. Gammon
lifted it up; and Titmouse beheld a picture of a man suspended from the
gallows, his hands tied with cords before him, his head forced aside,
and covered down to the chin with a white nightcap. 'Twas done with
sickening fidelity; and Titmouse gazed at it with a shudder. "Charming
thing, isn't it?" said Gammon, with a very expressive smile.

"Y--e--e--s," replied Titmouse, his